


Scars

by Kami_del_Antro



Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Canachxsylvari!commander, F/M, Guild Wars 2 - Freeform, Heart of Thorns, Sylvari (Guild Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 11:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16831630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kami_del_Antro/pseuds/Kami_del_Antro
Summary: They were enemies, and the past is hard to forget. But their shared pain may make them shed their armor and reveal the scars time couldn't heal.





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Original notes: This was a fanfic I submitted for a contest that was cancelled and, thus, never published. It’s short and sweet and it makes me feel better when I’m down, so I’ll post it here.
> 
> Update 03-12-2018: I really, really like this fanfic. I think it's one of the best I've done. I'm so thirsty for Canach content yall. I wish I had the time to write their full story, but this is a nice place to start.

Irene’s hand looked delicate in his hand. Small. The hand of a princess in the hand of a warrior. And still, Canach couldn't help but notice the dents and cuts, in vivid green, that plagued her tiny hand with cruel persistence, breaking the harmony of her red and purple skin. Irene noticed; she started to shift slightly on the ground, and pulled from her hand softly, almost politely. He didn’t let go.

“Are these…?” he asked, moving their hands closer to his eyes. Finally, she pulled harder, recovering her own hand and rubbing her fingers, nervously.

“From the Nightmare,” she mumbled, looking around for her silky blue gloves. Canach stared at her, the succulents on his face radiating just slightly on the dim light. “I don’t really want to talk about it just now.”

“That’s… fair,” he said, staring off in the distance. The edge of Rata Novus disappeared into dark caves, where dangers lurked quietly.

He knew enough, anyway. He found her crying in the middle of the golden jungle of Auric Basin, after Pact medic Ceera blamed her for the death of her husband. Shivering and holding Canach’s shield of the moon, she had talked in a way she would’ve probably avoided if she were on her better senses. The Heart of Maguuma wasn’t a good place to have a breakdown overall, but Canach was sure that Irene hadn’t intended to share so much of herself with him. It was one of those damned wrong place at the wrong time situations. Or maybe it was the right place and right time.

“This city… and its silly holograms,” he said slowly, carefully. “They take me back.”

Irene stopped looking for her gloves, turning a bit too fast to face him again. But he kept on contemplating the city from the high ledge that was their vantage point, his thorny brow furrowing slightly.

“Do you mean...” she hesitated, going back to rub her fingers, as she seemed to do whenever she was nervous. “When Vorpp...”

“Vorpp was an especially bad host, I suppose,” Canach mumbled, between clenched teeth. “But the exception seems to be the rule on this moles.”

“ _ Build Rata Novus with your brilliance! _ ” echoed the prerecorded message of a nearby hologram, making Canach smirk bitterly. _ “Substantial rewards are available for ideas leading to city improvements. _ ”

“And then, they were all eaten by hungry insects,” he said, loosening one of his Sylvari arm guards, that hugged his skin so tightly. “What a fitting ending to a bunch of petulant, foolish rats.”

Irene thought of her guildmates, Zeri and Taimi, but it wasn’t the time to make a case for the good asura. Not when Canach opened up his armor, revealing a softer bark inside the vegetal hide, still gray but with a distinct darker color, as if it was burned. His forearm was crossed over by black, fine lines, as the veins of a human would reveal themselves on light skin, or as lighting strikes on a stormy day. Irene’s eyes widened, and her soft gasp, almost a sob, attracted his eyes towards her once more.

“Show me your scars,” he said, stern and serious. “And I’ll show you mine.”

Irene stretched out her arm, slowly, dubiously, but Canach didn’t make a move. Her delicate hand touched his arm, scars touching scars, where saplings were taken away from home and their innocence was stripped from them, with humiliation, pain, and death. Canach had grown bitter and spiteful. And Irene had grown strong, and kind.

“I… I saw Vorpp, once,” she said, caressing his arm, making something awaken inside Canach once more. Something that had grown and developed since their first encounter, back at Southsun. “At Bouldermouth camp, after seeing you at the Vigil Headquarters. I was tending to the refugees and he was one of them.”

Canach didn’t answer, but stared at her intensely. She seemed troubled, not for her story, but for the fact they were touching each other in a way that seemed too intimate.

“I told him that I knew what he had done to my people, and to sod off,” she confessed, covering her mouth with her free hand. Canach leaned back, taken by surprise. “At the refugee camp!”

“Only for that,” he answered, grabbing something from his back. He seemed less bitter and troubled, almost about to laugh. “You can have these back.”

Irene looked almost offended when he showed her a couple of silky blue gloves, trimmed with silvery thread. She took them from his hand, frowning, but he seemed so satisfied with his punchline, like a cat who just ate a stolen piece of meat. His armband was still off, and he seemed so comfortable. Such a change of mind from the beginning of their journey into Maguuma. Such a change of heart.

They left silence drift between them, as they contemplated the dead city. Their hands were close once more, yet not touching. Not yet. Not until the time was right.


End file.
